


The Hungry Ghost

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Vampires in Berlin (aka Ramm-pires in Berlin) [7]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cover Art, Digital Art, M/M, Original Character(s), Sexual Content, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and the new guy in town</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](http://s1368.photobucket.com/user/paulchen2/media/hungry%20ghost_zpslebmaf4n.jpg.html)

The night was humid against Paul's skin as he slowly shifted from the sleep of the undead into gradual creeping wakefulness. He stretched, arms rising slowly, languidly above his head as a small groan of stiff satisfaction worked its way from between his lips. His legs stretched beneath the light coverlet that stretched across the bed in rumpled waves; Paul spread his toes, and his fingers, as he groaned again, louder that time, as muscles, long since unused through his sleep, creaked and groaned and crackled back into life again.

He yawned, and settled down once more, clutching the coverlet to his chest, more for comfort than through any true need for it. He didn't feel either heat or cold, skin perfectly deadened to extremes of temperature. Whilst he wasn't bothered by some of the changes invoked in his body since his vampiric transformation, sometimes, however, he missed the effects of snuggling down in large and fluffy jumpers and blankets, especially if the large and fluffy jumper in question belonged to Richard and he could smell the other vampire's comforting scent thick and heavy upon it. 

As if thoughts of Richard brought his vampiric lover to his mind, Paul turned onto his side, to stare at the still form of his partner beside him, chest still and unmoving, limbs stiff and eyes shuttered closed against the fading light of day. Paul watched him for a while, hoping to soon see signs of life quickening in his lover's frame, yet that evening, Richard seemed to be stubbornly clinging to sleep, laying in a little longer than usual. Paul sighed and reached out, to trace wondrous fingers against Richard's cold skin, over the curve of his chin and sharp line of his jaw, over the full jut of his lower lip. Paul dipped his hand down and pressed it flat against Richard's chest, eased it down lower still and pushed his fingers inside Richard's boxers. He wrapped exploratory fingers around his lover's cock and gave him a few strokes, yet the flesh was unyieilding and not very tempting; Richard was too far gone from consciousness to stir beneath Paul's touch. Paul sighed and drew his hand away, before he hiked his leg over Richard's hips; he straddled his lover, hands coming to gentle rest against Richard's broad shoulders. 

He was still staring down into Richard's immobile face, when he saw the first quickening of life in his skin, the first shift of magical life returning to his lover's form, and a vague stirring of an evening erection against the curve of Paul's butt. Paul shuddered in sudden pleasure at that, eyes closing as he began rocking gently against Richard's hips, fingers digging a little more firmly into the other vampire's shoulders for purchase. Richard groaned, lips smacking together slightly, as his eyes blinked into wakefulness; Paul opened his eyes and stared down at his lover as he rocked more firmly against Richard's growing erection, soft pants easing past suddenly parted lips as he did so. Richard's lips suddenly quirked into a smile, and his hands rose to rest upon Paul's hips, to steady them, to knead against willing flesh as Paul ground and rocked still further against Richard's cock. Paul shifted, so that the other vampire's erection fitted against the crease of his butt a little better, as Richard's hands touched and caressed his body, hips working up from the mattress beneath him as much as he could.

Paul lifted one hand from Richard's shoulder, and slowly reached into his pyjamas; he freed his cock from the confines of his boxers and began stroking himself quickly, eyes closing as he panted Richard's name out raggedly. He rocked harder still and he felt, rather than saw, Richard's body stiffening, mere seconds before Richard himself came, a whine of Paul's name arching up from the bed to be claimed for Paul's own. Paul came after that, release painting stripes over waiting sweat-soaked skin and he sighed in relief as he eased away from Richard's body. 

Richard lay languid and sated, and his hands reached for Paul blindly; Paul settled against Richard's side, head resting comfortably against the other vampire's shoulder. He kissed Richard's shoulder, fangs finding soft flesh and gnawed gently, laying tender little vampire kisses against the curve of Richard's shoulder. Richard laughed and rested one hand against Paul's sex-mussed head, before he lifted Paul's face to his and engaged Paul in a dirty, open mouthed kiss, tongue arching out to tease against the lines of Paul's fangs. Paul moaned and shuddered against the contact, and Richard licked harder against elongated canines; Paul felt pulses of power, and of lust rocketing through his body, again. 

“Evening, lover,” Richard murmured against Paul's lips and Paul felt the curve of his lover's lips against his own as Richard smiled against him. “Nice way to be woken up.” 

“Evening,” he murmured back. “And glad you think so.” 

Paul closed his eyes, and rested against Richard's body, familiar and sturdy against him. He opened his eyes and made a noise of complaint when Richard began to squirm gently away from him, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry, Paulchen, but I've gotta take a piss," Richard said, as Paul settled back against the pillows again, with another noise of barely sated complaint. 

Paul watched as Richard left the room; he heard the sounds of the other vampire peeing, even from down the hallway, before he heard the toilet flushing and the sound of Richard washing his hands. Paul then heard Richard dampening towels and wiping the mess from his skin and from between his legs, soft sighs of satisfaction soon escaping his lover's lips. It sounded to Paul as though Richard had taken himself in hand again, fingers rubbing across his length and Paul's body reacted in kind, dick stiffening by degrees until he almost was squirming with impatience upon the mattress with his growing need. He took himself in hand, fingers soon coaxing gentle groans from his mouth, hand speeding up as he began to grow closer to his time. He imagined that it was Richard there with him, Richard's hand upon his cock, or his mouth, wet and attentive and pulling louder groans from Paul's mouth. 

Paul panted out Richard's name, body soon curling into itself, as he pumped harder still at his erection; he didn't stop even when he was aware of the other vampire padding noiselessly into the room, obviously drawn there by the sound and the smell of Paul's growing arousal. Paul didn't stop, eyes now resting upon the stiffness of Richard's arousal, obvious even behind the shield of his pyjamas; Paul smiled, as the other vampire joined him beneath the covers, hand wrapping around Paul's wrist to still his pumping fingers.

"Stop," Richard said, and there was a hint of genuine order in his tone.

Paul cried out at the sound of the command, back arching in protest, yet still his hand dropped away; Richard nodded, and gestured silently for Paul to rest upon his stomach. Paul did so, hips and abdomen supported by a pile of cushions tossed almost too casually towards him by his lover. Paul couldn't help it, he began to hump the pillows impatiently, whilst Richard busied the lube from out of the bedside cabinet, yet the softness of the pillows wasn't quite enough for Paul. He needed something firmer, soemthing like Richard himself, either his body or his hand or his mouth to scratch his particular itch. It seemed as though Richard had different ideas, however, for he settled between Paul's legs and began preparing him, slick fingers dipping and curving and curling and wringing deep protracted groans from the vicinity of Paul's abdomen. Paul almost forgot the uncomfortable ache in his dick as his mind was taken up by the pleasure meted out upon his body by Richard's fingers, and Richard's caresses, and the kisses that Richard bestowed upon his shoulders and his back. Paul cried out when finally his lover's hand was replaced by the thicker, harder feel of his cock, pressing in and bearing down upon him until Richard was finally fully sheathed inside him. 

Paul's hand bunched in the pillow beside his head, his lover's name sighed out in a choked off gasp as Richard began to move against him, hips jerking and rough, hands desperate and clinging, and fangs sinking deep into Paul's shoulder; that last made Paul cry out in pleasure and he began to rock back against Richard's body, hand wrapping around his cock and rubbing against his length desperately with every movement. He felt Richard's body stiffen, and heard, as well as felt, that odd shifting grunt that always preceded Richard's climax vibrating against his shoulder; a few seconds later, Richard came, biting down harder still into Paul's already savaged flesh. Paul came, with a wordless yell wrenched frree from his throat, body shuddering beneath the weight of his pleasure rushing through him. He slumped against the bed once it was over, sated yet exhausted, and he felt Richard ease away from him to lay beside him, one arm flung lazily, protectively over his body.

"Paul,” Richard murmured, when Paul did little more than to merely lay there, turned away from him. 

“Hmm?” Paul asked, without turning his head.

"Paul,” Richard said, again, more insistently that time. "Paulie. Paulchen."

Paul adjusted his body, grimacing as he came into contact with the wet spot upon the pillows still trapped beneath his body, and turned his head to stare at Richard at close range.

"What, Richard?" he asked, but despite the sharp bite to his tone, his mouth held a gentle smile. 

“I love you," Richard said, with a smile that almost was sad.

“Me, too, liebling,” Paul said, with a smile, befoe he accepted the kiss from Richard's mouth. “Now go get a shower, you stinky bastard.”

"And there was me trying for a bit of tenderness. Thanks, Paul,” Richard said, with a snort, but he didn't pull away from Paul.

Instead, he continued laying there, weary and sated and happy, one hand rubbing gently at Paul's naked side. Paul stretched into the touch, one hand rising to fling over Richard's back and to snuggle closer. He nipped at Richard's throat with sharp fangs, smiling into the contact as Richard suddenly purred loudly. Paul could never resist Richard when he was at his most contented.

It took them a while for them to finally rise, despite their discomfort at laying upon soiled sheets and feeling sweat and bodily fluids drying upon their skin. Hunger was the main reason for motivating them to move in the end, blood-lust simmering just below the surface of every thought, every movement, every caress and kiss that they shared in the shower. They took their time in dressing, both too busy in admiring each other's bodies to hurry.

****


	2. Chapter 2

****

"Reesh?” Paul yelled, just as Richard made his way out of the bathroom, hair still damp from where he'd washed it, and skin smelling strongly still of the strawberry scented soap that he'd been using. 

The soap had been Paul's idea of a joke the week before whilst shopping in LIDL, yet despite his assurances otherwise, Richard secretly liked it. 

“Yeah?” Richard yelled back, as he pushed his pyjamas back beneath the pillow on his side of the bed. 

“Come here, a moment, darling,” Paul replied, tone still barely beneath a yell.

Richard felt a sudden stab of alarm at that, mind immediately reeling to thoughts of Paul laying hurt somewhere, skin blistered from contact made with garlic, or worse. Then he reminded himself that they didn't even keep much food in the apartment any more, so it was unlikely that Paul would have touched anything that disagreed with him. Still, he padded curiously through to where Paul was standing in the hallway, hands propped in fists upon his hips, misty-blue eyes squinting thoughtfully at the wall. Richard came to a halt beside him, and followed Paul's line of sight. The other vampire said nothing, however, merely continued squinting at the wall. Richard sighed, and nudged Paul with his elbow to garner some attention from his lover, when it seemed as though Paul was apparently hell-bent on ignoring him. 

“What's so bloody fascinating about the wall, Paulchen?” Richard finally asked, a hint of peeved irritation in his voice at that. 

“Don't you think it needs something to decorate it?” Paul asked, voice distracted and soft as he continued to squint at the mostly bare wall from a slightly adjusted angle. 

“Don't you dare say we need something like a cross up there,” Richard said, his irritation growing at the thought. “I don't think we're up to having religious iconography on the walls.”

“Who said anything about iconography? I didn't,” Paul replied, a sudden laugh splitting his face into a happy and fang-filled grin. “I was thinking of photographs, actually, Richard.”

“Oh,” Richard said, and he felt a little deflated, even a little ambarrassed, by that. “What kind of photographs?”

Paul didn't immediately answer, and Richard had sudden visions of photos of puppies and kittens gambolling in sunshine hanging in tasteful frames upon the wall.

“Jesus. No bloody puppy pictures, Paul,” he said, in disgust.

“What? What's up with you now? First crosses, now puppies,” Paul said, sudden deep laughter rolling from between his lips. “You're weird, Kruspe.” 

“Fuck you, you're weird,” Richard snorted, in return. 

“I know. And I was actually thinking of gravestones,” Paul admitted, as he cast a side-long glance at his lover.

“What the fuck for?” Richard asked, in alarm.

“To take photos of and hang them on the wall, of course,” Paul said, with a baffled snort, as though that should have been blatantly obvious.

“Again, I repeat, what the fuck for?” Richard asked, his alarm growing exponentially. 

“It's gothic and creepy, isn't it? It's what people expect of vampires,” Paul said. “I thought it might look kinda cool, actually.”

“Creepy's right,” Richard muttered, darkly. 

“Well, if you object that strongly, I won't do it,” Paul pointed out, yet there was very real, and very bitter, disappointment in his tone at Richard's apparent lack of enthusiasm.

Richard felt as though he'd suddenly kicked the world's largest, most well-meaning puppy, through inadvertently scoffing at Paul's idea. Even though he wasn't entirely sure about the reasoning behind the gravestone photos, he could see that they did need some kind of decoration on the wall; it was alarmingly bare and had been for as long as they'd lived there. All other rooms in their apartment had long since been well-decorated, sporting much loved photographs of them both together, alongside Rammstein-related awards and other paraphernalia. 

“No, you're right, lover; I'm sorry,” Richard said, finally with a heavy sigh of regret. “Those walls are rather disconcertingly bare.” 

“Disconcertingly, Reesh,” Paul said, as a grin made its way across his face again. 

“Shut your fucking pie-hole,” Richard said, darkly, even as a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Make me,” Paul said, a playful challenge clear in his voice and an equally playful smile upon his lips and in his eyes.

Richard huffed and pressed gentle, tender kisses against Paul's mouth; he felt Paul smile into the contact and his lover's body press against his own. 

“You can carry on making me, if you like,” Paul murmured, once the kiss had finished. 

His stomach disagreed with that little idea, however, for it growled loudly enough that Richard actually felt the echoes of it rumbling away against his own stomach. 

“I think your stomach says otherwise,” Richard pointed out, with a snort, but he made no attempt to put any sort of distance between himself and his lover. 

“Hmm,” Paul nodded, as he cast his gaze back towards the wall again. “So what, then, Reesh? Gravestones, or nah?” 

“I don't entirely get the idea of it, but if you think it best, then why not?” Richard asked, with a shrug that bordered on careless. “You've got a better eye for photography than I have.” 

“It'll look cool, you'll see,” Paul insisted. “And creepy.” 

“Morbid, is what it is,” Richard said, as he followed Paul into their bedoroom once more. “You do realise that we will never have gravestones of our own, don't you?” 

Paul stopped in his tracks so suddenly that Richard inadvertently bowled into his back, steadying himself at the last minute with a pair of hastily placed hands upon Paul's hips. 

“I'll be damned, if you're not right, Reesh,” Paul said, in surprise.

“Well, don't sound so surprised, Paul," Richard pouted, even as he padded over to his wardrobe to coax his coat from its well-stocked depths. “I am right, sometimes, you know.” 

Paul only laughed at that, before he joined Richard in pulling his jacket from his own wardrobe. 

“It's just that I've never thought about that before, is all,” Paul finally commented, with a shrug. “About our gravestones, you know.” 

“I have,” Richard said, gloomily.

Paul huffed, and stepped in to press an amused, long-suffering kiss against his lover's mouth.

“My gloomy liittle vampire princeling,” Paul said, as he pinched Richard's cheek gently. “How I love thee in all thy morbidity.” 

“Fuck me,” Richard mumbled, in disbelief.

“Later, lover, later,” Paul replied, cheekily, as he salvaged his camera bag from the depths of his drawer.

****


	3. Chapter 3

The night was heavy and close about their bodies when finally they ventured out into the street, humidity promising thunderstorms by daybreak, or earlier, if Paul's usually impeccable weather predictions were correct. He seemingly had a good instinct for knowing when the rain would fall, or when snow would hit, senses becoming ever more profound and acute the longer that he spent as a vampire. 

Richard had long since learned to trust in his lover's instincts, and could never hide his amusement whenever Paul became particularly enthused by the prospect of witnessing a thunderstorm outside, nose squished up against the glass of the windows in their apartment, or merely girnning his way through the streets whilst rain hammered down upon them and lightning split the night skies asunder above their heads. Richard always had been amazed at Paul's seemingly innate ability to garner even the greatest of enjoyment out of the simplest of things; he wished that he shared that same ability, yet even though he didn't always see the lighter side of things, he knew that Paul, through sheer dint of being Paul, kept him laughing and sane. 

They picked their way up and over the main gates of Alter St.-Matthäus-Kirchhof cemetery, hands and feet digging into the ivy creeping its choking way over the brickwork of the gateposts, soft and rustling slightly in the breezes that had picked up on the walk to the cemetery. Once upon the other side of the gates and further into the grounds themselves, Richard followed his lover through the gravestones, eyes resting gloomily upon marble both black and white, and the more standard grey, lichen covered concrete. He shivered and turned away from markers engraved with crosses, fangs aching at the sight of them. Even Paul had a hard time drawing near to the crosses, and he certainly struggled to even look at them, faint and uncomfortable hisses leaking past his lips with every cross passed. 

Richard stood beside Paul and waited for his partner to take his photographs, feet taking them to perfect shot after perfect shot that seemingly only Paul could see; Paul kept up a constant litany of how great his night mode was on his camera. Richard had grown bored long before Paul did, hands shoved deeply into his pockets and the odd complaint soon turning into more rapid ones. Paul turned a deaf ear to it all, too used to Richard and his habitual complaints by now to take offence. 

Richard was soon distracted from his own complaints and his boredom by the way that Paul suddenly shuddered, hands slowly taking his camera away from his face to stare seemingly blindly round them both. 

“What? What is it?” Richard asked, in sudden alarm. 

“Goose walked over my grave, or rather, my hypothetical grave,” Paul replied, but his smile, when it came, was uncertain and spooked around the edges. "Never mind; it was probably nothing."

“Huh,” Richard grunted, but otherwise remained silent. 

Instead of speaking, he bowed his head and waited whilst another shot was taken and Paul moved on, body silent and flitting through the grave markers that dotted the cemetery. He was ghostlike and ethereal, every movement fluid and silent and beautiful, and Richard's heart ached to see his lover caught in the act of mere walking. He couldn't quite get his head around the fact that essentially Paul was his creation, a vampire born almost a year previously, transformed out of sheer want and need and desperation, fear spurring him on to turn his lover before it was too late and Paul was lost for good. It made him want to keep Paul close forever, to ensure that the other vampire was safe at all times; he hoped, in turn, that Paul wanted to stay with him and would never leave. Darkness descended upon Richard then, accompanied by the sudden sharp and acute fear that perhaps Paul would leave him after all, and would find someone better, someone happier and more in keeping with Paul's warm and happy nature. That thought almost crippled Richard, almost brought him to his knees with the desperation of it all, and Paul stopped, an alarmed look upon his face as he turned a sharp-eyed gaze upon Richard.

“Reesh? What's wrong, darling?” Paul asked, and Richard cursed silently and mentally to himself.

Trust Paul to smell his fear upon him, and to sense his very sharply defined sense of desperation. 

”I'm being silly to myself, I think, Paulie," was all Richard could think to say at first. "I suppose it doesn't matter very much, in the long run."

“I wouldn't have said that. You smell sad, scared even,” Paul said, and Richard groaned again.

He should have known better than to think that Paul would merely drop the matter, particularly when it was Richard himself that was the subject of his scrutiny.

“You're not gonna leave it, are you?” he asked, but his tone was gentle when the words were not.

“Not if I think you're hurting,” Paul said, alarm growing exponentially as each second passed. “What have I done?”

Then Richard realised that Paul must have assumed that he'd done something, slighted Richard in some way and he relaxed a little, though not by much.

“You haven't done anything, lover,” Richard replied, and he was able to meet Paul's gaze when he said it. “Like I said, I'm just being fucking stupid to myself. You know how I get sometimes, when I get really dark.”

“But it seemed so sudden,” Paul said, even as he ghosted forward on silent feet and crowded in against Richard's body. 

Richard smiled slightly when Paul cupped one hand against the back of his neck before he pressed a kiss against Richard's mouth.

“I know,” Richard acknowledged, once the kiss had ended.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what the hell it was about?” Paul pressed, proving that his persistence would never go away easily. 

“I was thinking of when I changed you, of how scared I was that you'd die, and that it would be my fault,” Richard confessed. “I thought of all the times you could leave me in the future.”

“Who the hell said anything about leaving you?” Paul asked, loudly, and he looked genuinely aggrieved by Richard's admission. “I've told you before, and I'll tell you again. I'm not leaving you. I never will. My heart's bound to yours stronger now than it ever was.” 

Richard closed his eyes and didn't know what to say to that. He felt the ghost of Paul's fingers against his cheek, soft and caressing and the passage of Paul's sigh against his mouth. 

“Look at me, darling,” Paul said, yet his tone had turned soft instead of hurt.

Richard sighed, shoulders rising and falling with the motion, yet he didn't immediately do as Paul had asked. He felt the insistent twitch and pinch of Paul's fingers against his cheek and a surprised cry leaked past his lips at that, even as his eyes opened. 

“You are being a stupid little fucker, Reesh,” Paul said. 

“I know,” Richard said, with a grin, even as he pulled Paul closer to him.

The angle was awkward because of the camera hanging between them; Richard waited whilst Paul laughingly extricated himself from Richard's embrace to twist the camera out of the way, before the smaller vampire lost himself against Richard's body once more. Paul's eyes seemed a deeper shade of blue in the darkness, but still kind, and still as soft as ever whenever he looked upon Richard. Richard had long since lost count of the times when Paul had looked at him in such a way, when they were onstage, when they were doing interviews, at home, whilst they were in bed; the locations might change but the look never did. It always was the same, soft and tender and filled with a devoted love that Richard felt he often didn't deserve, yet still was grateful for. 

“I don't deserve you, Paul,” he offered, when the silence dragged on and became a little uncomfortable.

“No, you don't, but I'm glad you realise it,” Paul said, cheekily, even as he leant in and gave Richard a nuzzling Eskimo kiss. “I know I deserve every inch of you.”

“And then some,” Richard replied, which made Paul laugh against him.

Richard's eyes closed when he felt the soft line of Pual's mouth agaianst his, lips soon parting beneath the gentle teasing press of Paul's tongue against the seam of his mouth; Paul's tongue was wet and gentle against his fangs and his own tongue. Richard felt a stirring in his dick at that and he settled closer, pushed at Pual's butt until there was not even an inch of space left between them, close enough that his lover couldn't miss Richard's partial erection. 

“Not in the graveyard, Reesh,” Paul said, a little regretfully. “Much as I like the idea of it, I don't want to be seen.”

“It's three in the morning,” Richard murmured against Paul's mouth. “There's hardly gonna be anyone around other than us.” 

“I stil don't want to risk it, not here,” Paul said. "I feel like making love in private tonight.” 

Richard hummed against Paul's lips and leant in again, and tightened his hold upon Paul's body; the other vampire was soft and malleable against him, every line of him willing and gentle. Richard sighed again and rested his chin against Paul's shoulder, as Paul snuggled a little closer against him. The rain began to fall, lightly at first, hissing against the ground and the gravestones around them before the fall turned heavier, and the droplets plashed harder against the ground and the heads of the embracing vampires. Richard sighed, eyes tracking the edges of the cemetery, quick gaze soon picking out movement, even though he heard nothing but the rain. He stiffened, seconds before Paul's hand bunched in his jacket and tugged gently to gain Richard's attention.

“Now what?” Paul asked, in surprise. “You've gone as stiff as a dead board.” 

“Someone else is here, watching us,” Richard replied, purposefully keeping his voice low as he scanned the trees again.

He didn't see any further movement, and he heard nothing still but the hiss of the rain around them. Richard shivered despite himself, yet that one gesture was more at the discomfort at the rain trickling between his collar and his skin than through truly feeling the cold. 

"What kind of someone?” Paul asked, as he gently extricated himself from Richard's emvbrace to follow his lover's line of sight towards the trees.

“I don't know,” Richard replied, after a brief pause. “I didn't get a good look at them, but whoever it was was bloody quiet. As quiet as we are.” 

“Vampire, d'you think?” Paul asked, a strained hush coming over his voice at that.

“I don't know,” Richard replied, slowly. 

“We should have a look,” Paul said, body stiffening suddenly. “I'm not having some other fucker on our patch, Reesh.” 

Richard laughed suddenly at that and Paul stared askance at him, a clear challenge in his eyes that was as much for Richard himself as it was for the unknown person beneath the trees. 

“I never seriously took you for the territorial type, Paul,” Richard explained, without being mocking. “I didn't think that when it came down to it, you'd be anything other than your usual friendly type.” 

“Not when it comes to another dirty vampiric bastard,” Paul said, roughly. 

“We're not dirty,” Richard said, even as Paul began to ghost away on silent feet towards the trees at the edge of the grave markers. 

“We're not; everyone else is,” Paul threw over his shoulder quietly before he turned his gaze and associated attentions back to the stand of trees once more.

Richard laughed again, but didn't speak; instead, he followed in Paul's wake until they reached the shade of the trees, which kept a little of the rain from falling upon them. The air had grown chilly with the advent of the rain, and thunder rumbled ominously upon the horizon, seeming to shake the air with its very looming presence. 

“There's no one here,” Richard said, and he snorted at the disappointment he heard in his own voice. 

“They must have gone, already,” Paul agreed, and he sounded as disappointed as Richard felt. “Unless … We know you there, ya bastard. Come out.” 

There was no movement, no sound, no hint that there was anyone else there other than Richard and Paul themselves. 

“There's no one here, at least not anymore,” Richard said, with a sigh as he turned away. “Come on, Paulchen, let's go home.” 

Paul grunted, but it took the smaller vampire a few seconds to join him, as Richard made his way through the gravestones. He felt Paul's warm presence beside him at last, followed by the other's gentle hand sliding into his own. Richard exchanged a grin with his lover, before he squeezed Paul's fingers gently. He'd all but forgotten his earlier depressive fit, in the wake of the excitement of the unknown watcher beneath the trees.

****

Their lovemaking that night was slow and tender, filled with soft moans, and gentle caresses, nipping kisses exchanged as soft cries leaked past skinned back lips; hands trailed over stretched arms, and their bodies writhed and moved together beneath sweaty sheets. Paul came first, pleasure and longing in his moans as he cried for his lover, hands grasping and digging into Richard's flesh, holding him close as though he never wanted to let go, ever again. Richard felt the sweetness of the moment even through his own rush of pleasure and heated release, Paul's name a heavy moan in the night as he came with relief filling his veins. He held onto Paul long after he'd eased away from his lover's body, content to merely hold him, to soothe him, to kiss him as the glow of their shared release slowly faded.

****


	4. Chapter 4

Richard was still in the bathroom the following evening when he heard the sound of a knock at their front door.

“I'll get it,” he heard Paul yell happily from the kitchen. 

Richard grunted past the obstruction of his toothbrush in his mouth even as he crossed the room, to snick open the door, hand still manipulating the frothing minty paste around his mouth. He heard the sounds of the washing machine working busily by itself in the kitchen, and the sound of Paul, at the front door, soon answered by the familiar gentle soft voice of Olli. Rihcard grinned at that, and made his way down the hallway, to greet the newly arrived bassist.

“Are you rabid?” Olli asked, with sudden alarm, upon seeing Richard's toothpaste filled mouth.

Richard frowned, pulled his brush from between his fangs and shook it angrily at the suddenly laughing Olli. Paul grinned himself, even as Richard silently gestured that he'd be back in a minute. He returned to the bathroom, spat out the used froth, before he rinsed his mouth out with clean water and set his brush beside that of Paul's in the bathroom cabinet. He returned, wiping his hands free of froth and water, as Paul showed Olli into the living room. Richard heard Olli sit down with a sigh.

"I never think of you guys actually brushing your teeth,” Olli was saying as Richard entered the room. “It seems so mundane, and human.”

“We still have to keep these babies clean,” Paul said, as he showed off his fangs. “We're sensualists, Olli. We like pleasure, and cleanliness above all else.” 

Olli grunted out his amusememnt at that, before he nodded at Richard in acknowledgement. 

"I just popped round to give you some gifts,” he said, as he tapped a crinkling paper bag down beside him, something that Richard had not noticed before in his earlier dash through the apartment. “You do celebrate birthdays still, don't you?” 

“I guess,” Richard grunted, even though the thought of birthdays had long since slipped his mind in the tanglement of nightly life and existence. 

Paul grinned and almost snatched the gifts from Olli's hands, before Richard even made a move; it almost seemed, to Richard, as though the gift was meant for Paul, instead of Richard himself. He smiled, however, as Paul bounded towards him; his lover's body thrummed with his excitement, and face filled with one of his typically huge and beautiful grins. 

"Open 'em, Reesh,” Paul yelled, as he waved the crinkling paper bag in front of Richard excitedly.

“I will, in a minute, darling,” Richard replied, patiently, as he propped one proprietory hand against Paul's hip.

He looked towards Olli over the curve of Paul's shoulder and nodded at the quietly laughing bassist.

"Thanks, Olli,” Richard said, quietly.

“You're welcome,” Olli said, even though Richard had, as yet, to see what the gifts even were. 

Richard took the bag from Paul when the other vampire thrust the crinkling package against his chest repeatedly; Richard laughed and pressed a long-suffering kiss against Paul's cheek, before he gave the other vampire a partial, one armed hug.

“No offence, Richard, but I don't need a kiss, or a hug,” Olli said, as Richard padded forward to take the seat next to him. "A simple thank you wil do." 

“I wasn't gonna give you any kisses or hugs,” Richard insisted, with a snort. "Those are reserved only for Paulie."

Olli's laughter came again, long body relaxed and languid against the cushions. Richard opened his gifts, grinning over the pile of CD's he'd been given, and the guitar wax that Olli had thoughtfully bought him; the bassist had even bought the brand that Richard preferred, proving that the bassist really did take notice of the preferences of others. 

“Thanks, Olli,” Richard said, gratefully. “These are great.” 

Olli merely shrugged, large hands rising slightly from the cushions beside him. 

“Have you still got nothing to eat in this joint?” he asked, next. “The least you could do is give me a biscuit or a piece of cake, or something.” 

“Paul?” Richard asked, helplessly.

Paul had always been the one to do the shopping, even before their vampiric change; it had always been Richard who cooked the food, however. Paul grinned and nodded.

“I did buy some fruit cake at the weekend, just in case anyone swung by,” Paul confirmed. 

“Good,” Olli said, with a nod of satisfaction. “Then fruit cake will be just fine.” 

Paul nodded, and disappeared back into the kitchen again; Richard heard the sounds of the washing being placed into the tumble dryer, before Paul slammed around the kitchen, carving a chunk of cake and placing it upon a clattering plate. The other vampire soon returned, even clutching a bottle of beer freshly pulled from the fridge; Olli accepted the food and drink gratefully, mouth soon wrapping hungrily around the cake.

“Good,” Olli said, in appreciation as he lifted his portion up with a nod.

Paul grinned and nodded out his relief; Richard merely looked on in amused silence. The conversation turned then from cake to the next video that Rammstein were due to shoot. No one yet knew the details of said shoot, other than it might be in Germany this time, perhaps in the Schwarzwald. 

“We always seem to get stuck with bloody forests lately,” Richard snorted, as his mind shifted back to the video they'd shot in the depths of a Transylvanian forest. 

"I don't even wanna think about that place," Paul snorted, even as Olli mumbled his muffled agreement from around his mouthful of cake. "Flake and his obsession with bloody murderers." 

Richard huffed out a dry laugh and pointedly changed the subject.

****

Richard and Paul made their way through the trees that whispered their way throughout the Tiergarten, leaves rustling gently in the breezes. The air was warm and redolent with the scent of flowers; Paul led Richard into the Englischer Garten, and still further to the heavily scented air that surrounded the rose bushes. Richard watched, with some amusement, as Paul plucked a particularly heavy bloom from one of the bushes, red petals sending up a heavy welter of scent into the air. 

“A gorgeous gift for my gorgeous lover,” Paul said, as he presented Richard with the flower. "Happy birthday, my love.” 

Richard huffed and accepted the gift gratefully, fingers avoiding the bulky thorns upon the stem, before he stepped in to press a kiss against Paul's mouth, one proprietary hand pressed against Paul's butt.

“Thanks, Paulchen,” he said, as he tucked the rose into one of his button-holes.

He admired the bloom; he wasn't usually one to admire flowers, although he had to admit that despite that, he still had a particular fondness for roses, if nothing else. Roses seemed always beautiful to Richard, and the scent particularly intoxicating, effortlessly unassuming and beautiful and a constant reminder of early summer. 

They continued on their way, soon catching their meal a little further on from the roses; fangs soon sliced into mesmerised flesh, and human blood flowed past greedy tongues. Richard was the first to ease away, hunger sated for a while, and he watched Paul for a few moments; he couldn't help but smile over the way that the other vampire's eyes closed whilst he fed, mouth forming a perfect suction against his victim's throat. Paul's eyelashes formed a perfect lacy pattern against his cheek where the lids had closed, and Richard could smell Paul's contentment as acutely as he'd smelled the roses. Paul eventually eased away, tongue lapping greedily at the blood that had inadvertently spilled against his lips, vague arousal thick upon his skin. 

Richard reached for him, pulled him close and kissed him; he could taste blood on Paul's tongue, soon licked away until there was nothing there but the taste of Paul himself. He sighed into the kiss and received a sigh from Paul in turn, contentment, happiness, tenderness in their shared and mutual sighs. Without a word, they left their victims alone, and made their way through the park, and it was as they were stepping past the rose bushes again that Paul stumbled and fell over a prostrate form upon the ground, half hidden by the bushes. The scent of blood and of fresh death, previously covered by the heavy scent of the roses, now wafted through the air with the disturbance of the body, and Richard stepped back with a cry of surprised alarm. He peered in through the thickly growing branches, and saw a human laying there, obviously dead. Upon her neck, were two fangmarks, gouged and ripped into still bleeding flesh.

****


	5. Chapter 5

“Who the hell d'you think did that?” Richard asked, as he paced the living room from wall to wall and back again.

Paul and Richard had returned to their apartment, having disposed of the fang-bitten body they'd found in the River Spree, weighted down with rocks in the pockets of the woman's drifting skirts, hopefully never to be seen again. Paul watched his partner pacing, fangs playing with his lower lip as he did so; Paul's mind flittered back to the time when they'd killed an unsuspecting pair of humans, who'd returned from the dead as a pair of revenge seeking revenants. He wondered if it was likely to happen again, yet if it did, then the revenge the revenant would seek would not fall on their heads this time; the death did not belong to their hands.

“I have no idea,” Paul finally replied. “But you don't need me to tell you that it was another vampire, Reesh.” 

Richard snorted, stopped in front of Paul and stared wildly at him for a few moments, before he snorted again when Paul neither spoke nor reacted, and continued his pacing again. He ran one hand through his hair, mussing the dark spikes until they stood every which way, dislodged from the usually ordered style in which Richard usually kept his hair. Paul sighed and settled back upon the sofa, before he spoke. 

“Whoever was watching us in the cemetery might have done it,” he offered. 

“Maybe,” Richard said, whirling to face Paul again with a look of inspired surprise on his face. “Maybe, indeed, Paul. You might be right, actually, y'know? Perhaps it was a vampire we saw. It could explain why we never heard him, and why he moved so quickly.” 

“Yeah,” Paul nodded. “It doesn't help us to find out who it is or what he wants.” 

“Or she,” Richard corrected, not unkindly, with a brief smile. “Not all vampires are necessarily male, Paul.” 

“Fair enough,” Paul conceded, with a tilt of his head towards his lover and a sudden laugh. “Whoever this vampire is needs to stay out of our territory or leave Berlin, altogether.”

Richard grunted, and shrugged. 

“Berlin's a large place; I'm sure something could be worked out if they're willing,” he said. “But yeah, he or she needs to stay out of the Tiergarten at least. That's our patch.” 

“Indeed,” Paul said. “I think we need to be extra vigilant, both to scare off this vampire, and to stop him or her from killing again. This will only end up in tears and I don't want either of us to be crying, if the cops come calling.” 

“I hadn't thought of that,” Richard said, darkly, body tensing up as the reality of the idea that Paul had posed dawned upon him.

Paul nodded, but otherwise said nothing. He watched Richard for a while; surprisingly, the other vampire did not pace again. Instead, he settled down beside Paul on the sofa, yet neither vampire touched. Instead, they sat side by side, mere centimetres apart, silent, watchful and thoughtful in each other's company. 

Paul was the first to grow bored and to move a little impatiently; he suggested watching a film to help take their minds off matters for a while. Richard nodded, yet when the film that Paul had chosen had started, colours shifting crazily across their TV screen, neither one of them particularly paid much attention to what was going on. Instead, they stared off into space, mostly lost in thoughts of how to scare off vampires.

****

The following evening, Richard was busying himself with ironing some of his clothing, cursing and huffing over the chore whenever the clothing refused to lie flat and to iron as perfectly as he wanted. He heard a soft knock at the front door, and the sound of Paul shouting that he'd get it. Richard grunted in reply, softly, knowing that the other vampire's keen ears would hear him no matter how loudly, or softly, he spoke. He listened, however, as he continued sweeping the heated iron over his trousers, as Paul answered the door. He heard the sound of his lover's puzzled voice, and the answering reply of what seemed to be a courier. Richard set aside his iron, and made sure that it wasn't inadvertently touching his trousers; he didn't want to return to the ironing board and find that there was a massive burn hole in the crotch of his trousers. Whilst Paul himself would undoubtedly get a kick and a laugh out of it, Richard couldn't very well wear them onstage, as he was supposed to, should that outcome occur. 

He switched off the iron at the wall, before he wandered out into the hallway curiously, just as Paul helped the courier to heft in a large coffin into the front hall. 

“What the fuck is that?” Richard asked, in surprise. "And don't say a coffin, you bloody smart-arse, Paul.” 

Paul's laugh was immediate and infectious; Richard, himself, was laughing, even as Paul made his way outside their apartment again, with the courier in stoic, sour-faced tow. Richard followed them out into the corridor, and helped to carry in another coffin, as sleek and as shiny as the first. 

“This is a gift from Till, apparently,” Paul explained, as soon as the courier had left. “It's your birthday present, look!”

On one of the coffins' handles, dangled a gift tag, with Till's angular writing scrawled across the white face of it. 

_'Alles gute zum Geburtstag, Richard; perfect little love nests for you and your partner, love Till.'_ Richard quietly read.

“He put , _'love Till'_ Reesh,” Paul pointed out with a laugh. "Isn't that nice of him?"

“This has gotta be a joke, surely,” Richard said, despite the laugh that still threatened. “Fucking coffins, seriously?”

“Matching coffins, Richard,” Paul countered, as though that was all that really mattered. “You know what kind of humour Till has. He probably thought it was cute or funny or something, giving coffins to dead guys.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Richard said, as he propped balled fists onto his hips and shook his head. "I don't know whether to laugh or to smash his face in, quite frankly.” 

Paul laughed again, before he shrugged at Richard.

“I dunno, Reesh. I think it's funny,” he said, as he gestured towards the twin coffins.

“You bloody would, you maniac,” Richard replied, as he eased open one of the hinged lids to peer inside. “Hey, look, it's fully lined and everything.”

Paul squeezed in beside Richard and peered down at the coffin before them; he marvelled at the heavily padded, silken lined interior, which glowed a soft and tasteful red in contrast wth the more austere black of the exterior. 

“This is real brass, as well,” Richard said, as he fingered the hinges and the handles on the sides. "Not plated crap."

“These must have cost a lot, just for a joke,” Paul remarked, his smile fading a little, as he turned a bemused frown upon his lover.

“I know. I don't know what reaction he expects from us, but let's try and give him the exact opposite,” Rihcard said, as deep laughter rolled past suddenly exposed fangs. “As best we can, anyway.” 

“How?" Paul asked, as he, too, began to laugh.

“Tell Till we love them, of course,” Richard said, laughter imbuing his tone with warmth. “Shit, we should even start using them, just to spite him. Let's put them in the bedroom; that'll put the wind up him.”

“Reesh, we can't,” Paul laughed, even as he followed Richard into their bedroom.

“We can,” Richard replied, insistently. “Come on, lover, help me move our bed into the spare room, would you?”

Paul resumed his laughing fit, even as he helped Richard to roughly dismantle the bed and cart the frame and the mattress into their spare room. He helped to set the bed up again, even as Richard commented that they could always return it to its proper place if they found that the coffins proved too uncomfortable. Paul laughingly agreed and he still was chuckling quietly to himself, as he helped the other vampire to shift both coffins into their new place in the bedroom. 

“Well, this kind of stops us having a good hard fuck in the evenings, though, I must say,” Richard said, a little disapointed, as he ran his gaze over both of the coffins. 

“I dunno, Reesh; the bed is still sort of set up,” Paul pointed out, as he nodded in the direction of the spare room. “We can always use that for fucking in.” 

“Hmm,” Richard nodded, with a smile. 

Then his smile turned into a wicked grin, and he strode purposefully across the room. 

“I'm gonna try one of these out,” he said, as he bent down to lift the lid again. “Thank fuck they don't creak.” 

“That would have been a step in the wrong direction,” Paul agreed, with a nod. 

He watched as Richard laid down in the coffin, surprised at how snugly the other vampire fitted into its silken confines.

“This is quite comfy, actually,” Richard said, as he wriggled around a little upon the silken cushions. “Although very morbid.” 

“Morbid? We're vampires. We're supposed to be morbid,” Paul pointed out, as he moved to kneel beside Richard.

He rested his forearms on the side of Richard's coffin, and smiled as the other vampire grinned up at him. He closed his eyes when he felt Richard’s fingers trailing in his hair, before the other vampire grabbed his ear and tugged on it gently. Paul's eyes flew open in surprise, even as Richard's laugh rolled out from between his lips. 

“You should try this out, lover,” Richard said, after Paul had turned his head and bitten Richard on the palm. 

“Okay,” Paul grunted, even as he stood to lift the other coffin open. “Oh, wow, Reesh, look at this!” 

Richard stepped out of his own coffin, even as Paul lifted out another box that had been tucked into the bottom of the other, previously unopened coffin. 

“Massage oil,” Paul read, with a delighted laugh. “Coconut scented. This must be your real present.” 

“Oh, Christ, this is even better, Paulie,” Richard said, as he crowded in close to his lover. “We should tell Till that we used his gift, and he won't know which one we're referring to.”

Paul laughed and leant up against Richard, even as he laughingly nodded at his lover.

“We should,” he agreed, easily, before he winked at Richard with a mischievous look in his eye. "And you know what else we should do?” 

“What?” Richard asked, suspiciously. 

"We should totally try this shit out,” Paul said, as he shook the bottle of massage oil in Richard's direction. 

Richard sighed, yet all he could do after that was laugh and nod at his lover.

****


	6. Chapter 6

Later that night, Richard settled upon the bed in their spare room, that Paul had helped him to move there earlier in the night. He sighed and wriggled against the sheets, enjoying the silken feel of them against his naked skin. He smiled and watched as Paul entered the room, also as naked as Richard himself, and half hard already. The other vampire closed the door behind himself, more for the false sense of privacy that it provided than anything else; there was no one but themselves in the apartment, after all.

Richard watched as Paul settled upon the bed beside him, and began warming the massage oil between his hands, rubbing his palms together until the heady scent of coconut filled the air. Richard turned onto his stomach when his lover bade him do so, and settled into a more comfortable position after much fidgeting and moving around. Richard murmured out a small note of pleasure, and arched up into Paul's touch when the other vampire laid his palms against Richard's bare back. 

Paul began to work the oil into Richard’s back, pressing down with firm strokes of his fingers against the curved expanse of his lover's back; he started working upwards and dug out every last kink and knot in the other vampire’s muscles. His fingers pushed and prodded and manipulated until Richard was a groaning mess upon the mattress, every moan, every groan filled with intense pleasure, that was almost bordering on pain in its intensity. Paul continued working at his lover’s back, moving ever upwards until he was kneading at the other vampire's shoulders, working with fingers and thumbs until Richard was loose and relaxed. Paul reached over, wiped the excess oil away with a spare towel, and patted Richard on the bum gently.

“You can sit up now, darling,” he said, with a smile, even as Richard took his time moving.

Richard smiled lazily at Paul, and stretched languidly, fingers laced together and pushing upwards as he groaned luxuriously. 

“That was wonderful,” he said, and his voice had taken on that lazy relaxed and contented purr that Paul never heard often enough. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s not my gift,” Paul laughed. 

“It is sort of,” Richard said, with a laugh of his own. “Your hands are fucking wonderful."

“And you’ve only just realised this now?” Paul asked, in feigned shock. 

Richard laughed and swiped at Paul; Paul ducked and almost fell from the bed, saving himself from a tumble through feline quick reflexes. He rolled back onto the bed and almost landed in Richard’s lap, mouth mere inches from Richard’s partial erection. 

“While you’re there, lover,” Richard said, with a lewd grin as he rested one hand hopefully on the back of Paul’s head.

Pasul laughed, and he scooted far enough forward so that his mouth closed over the tip of Richard’s cock; he closed his eyes as he took his lover into his mouth, and began pleasuring him, movements slow and purposeful, nostrils filled with the sweet and heady scent of coconut mingling with the heavier aroma of his lover’s arousal. His movements quickened and he began moaning against Richard’s cock; he heard his lover's answering gasped moans somewhere above his head. Paul's own erection was painfully hard now and aching; he wanted to touch himself, yet his hands were both needed for balance. He moved faster, and heard Richard’s gasps and groans grow louder, pleasure evident in every noise that Richard made, interspersed with long drawn out groans of Paul’s name. Paul took his lover deeper into his throat, swallowed around him and Richard’s hips lifted from the bed as he spilled out into Paul’s throat. Paul swallowed as much as he could, before he licked Richard clean with long slow purposeful sweeps of his tongue; as soon as he pulled away again, he palmed the rest of the mess from his lips and licked that away too. 

Richard laid back upon the bed, sated and languidly posing against the pillows; he was staring at Paul, gaze flickering from Paul’s face to his erection, with a grin upon his face. Paul grinned back, and purposefully fetched the lube from the bedside, squirting some on his fingers, whilst Richard turned onto his stomach again. Paul prepared his lover with deft fingers, before he rolled on a condom, and positioned himself at Richard’s entrance. He pushed in slowly with a deep groan of pleasured relief and heard the soft whimpers of pleasure from his lover’s throat beneath him. He began thrusting, slowly at first and then harder, harder, harder still, until he could feel nothing but Richard beneath him, heard nothing but Richard, and he came, spilled out with a loud cry of his lover’s name, as his back arched in his pleasure. He pulled away once it was over and laid beside Richard, hand reaching out to wrap around Richard’s own. 

"Happy birthday, my darling,” he said, into Richard’s lazily laughing face.

****

A few nights later, Richard and Paul visited Schneider and his wife, Ulrike. It was the first time in months that either Paul or Richard had seen Ulrike and they knew, as Schneider had already warned them, that she did not know they were vampires. He'd already warned them not to smile too widely when around Ulrike or the babies, for fear of frightening them. 

“Hi, come in; nice to see you again,” Ulrike said, when Richard and Paul entered.

She gave them both a hug, shivering slightly when she brushed against Paul's bared skin.

“My, you're both so cold,” she said, as she scrubbed at her arms in shivering alarm. “You wouldn't think it, to touch you, that it was the middle of June.” 

Paul smiled without opening his mouth, even as he stared up at Richard briefly; he wasn't certain as to how best to explain the deathly chill that had descended upon their skin since their vampiric transformation. 

“Bad circulation,” Richard finally offered when Paul remained silent, with a smile that was just as close, and much briefer, than Paul's had been.

Ulrike shivered again, before she laughed and offered them coffee.

“Just to warm you two up a little,” she said, grin warming her pretty face. 

“Uh, no thanks, Ulli; we're fine,” Paul said, in sudden alarm. “We won't be staying long. It's already 10pm.”

This last was accompanied with a brief glance at his watch and a nod of corroboration. 

“You're sure?” she asked, in sudden surprise.

“Yes. Thank you, though, for the offer,” Richard agreed, with another brief smile. 

“Chris? You're gonna have one, yes?” Ulrike asked, as she turned a suspicious gaze upon her husband.

“Hmm-hmm,” Schneider said, yet it was obvious the drummer was trying not to laugh, eyes sparkling with the strain of keeping his vampire-induced mirth inside. 

Ulrike nodded, and made her way into the kitchen; both vampires could hear her singing away whilst she prepared two mugs with instant coffee.

“Seriously, you could have had a coffee,” Schneider said, once he was certain that Ulrike wasn't listening. “That was a bit rude.” 

“Rude? No more rude than vomiting it all back up again, on your fancy rug,” Paul pointed out, as he gestured towards the thick and fluffy rug that sprawled before the fireplace. “You know we can't drink all your human crap. I don't think your wife would appreciate mopping up coffee grounds and vampire puke.” 

“She'd probably make me do that. All the while claiming vomit-mopping is a man's job,” Schneider said, with a laugh. 

“I think she'd best ask Till to do that, then, if she wants a man doing it,” Richard muttered, from behind a swiftly raised hand.

“Fuck you, Kruspe,” Schneider said, suddenly losing the smile from his mouth, but not his eyes. 

His eyes still sparkled with his internal laughter, and his mouth soon twitched again into a bright and humourous grin. 

“Anyway, d'you wanna come and have a look at the babies?” he asked, as he gestured for the vampires to come through.

“No, Chris, I don't think so,” Paul said, morosely. 

“Babies don't like us any more,” Richard explained when Schneider looked suprrised at Paul's refusal. “I think they know what we really are.” 

“We make them cry,” Paul continued. 

“Make who cry?” Ulrike asked, as she came through carrying two mugs of steaming hot coffee. “Breaking women's hearts again, I suppose?”

“Unlikely,” Paul said, with a close-lipped smile. “Unless you mean those that don't realise that we're both already happily spoken for.” 

He turned a grin onto Richard then, careful to hide his fangs from Ulrike's view. Richard partially turned away from her, too, as he laughed and leant in to press a kiss against Paul's temple. 

“I suppose that would make sense,” Ulrike nodded, wisely, as she smiled at them both. 

“Actually, they were talking about babies,” Schneider said, as he took his coffee from his wife. 

“Babies?” Ulrike asked, as she blinked at the vampres in surprise. “You're not having one, are you?” 

“What the - ? Hell, no,” Paul said, in alarm. “I don't think that's likely, any time soon. Is it, Reesh?”

Richard immediately shook his head, a moue of disgust clear on his mouth. 

“I think you'd make good fathers,” Ulrike told them, stoically. 

“Babies don't think so,” Richard replied, darkly. “They're scared of us.” 

“You're too hard on yourself,” Ulrike said.

Schneider snorted, eyes darting from one to the other of the vampires.

“Anyway, enough about babies. You're making Richard and Paul uncomfortable,” he pointed out. “Any news as to when we're shooting a new video?”

“Not yet,” Paul said, with a shrug when Richard didn't immediately reply. 

Ulrike then showed interest in discussing the future of Rammstein, asking about potential tours and festival appearances, keeping them all talking until almost 11pm. Richard and Paul made their excuses to leave, sensing that Ulrike, unused to the strange hours a metal band and vampires could keep, was getting a little tired. Schneider nodded at the vampires in thanks, before seeing them to the door. 

“Don't be a stranger, now, either of you,” he advised them, once the vampires were out in the corridor, and he still was on the apartment side of it. 

“We won't be,” Paul promised him, easily. “I'm sure Ulrike will chase after us, if we don't pop in at some point.” 

“Hmm,” Schneider nodded, and grinned at them.

****


	7. Chapter 7

“RICHARD!” 

Richard bolted up from the side of the bed the following evening, one sock still half-hanging awkwardly from his foot, at Paul's suddenly agonised cry from the living room. He sprinted through to his lover, fear suddenly racing its cold way through his body, over the sudden thought that Paul had hurt himself somehow. He was relieved when he saw that the other vampire was quite unharmed, and sitting on the sofa, with nothing but a pair of boxers on, staring in horror at the screen of the TV. Richard turned his attentions on to it, then, and watched the news piece playing onscreen.

“A body was found in the Tiergarten last night, in the Englischer Garten, completely exsanguinated. The man had been dead for only a few hours, estimated time of death somewhere around the time of 10pm,” the reporter was saying. “Identity is so far unknown, as is the identity of the killer. All that is known that the cause of death seems to be two puncture wounds upon the victim's throat.” 

“Richard,” Paul said, again, and his voice sounded strangled, eyes wide and tortured as he stared up at the other vampire. 

“It wasn't us, darling,” Richard said, and was the only thing he could concievably think of saying. 

“I know,” Paul said, and impatience was starting to filter through his initial shock. “The question is, who is it that did? We still don't know.” 

Richard didn't have an answer for him; instead, he transferred a dead-eyed gaze back onto the TV screen again, yet the news reporter had moved onto something else, about a car theft in Kreuzfeld. He settled beside Paul on the sofa, elbows propped upon his knees, one leg jiggling beneath the weight of his own anxiety. 

“Reesh?” Paul asked, and Richard turned his gaze onto his lover, sharply.

He didn't know what he expected from Paul, and what the other vampire expected from him in turn, yet he hadn't expected Paul to look quite so scared, fear turning his eyes large and softly wounded, lips pushed out into an equally soft moue of anxiety. Richard sighed and gestured for Paul to come closer; Paul did, yet his body was stiff and nearly unresponsive against him. Richard sighed again and rubbed one hand against Paul's arm, pulling him into a tighter hug.

“We'll be fine, love,” he said, gently. “No one even knows we're vampires, don't forget.” 

“Except for the rest of the band,” Paul agreed, gently. 

“Exactly,” Richard said. “No one can tie this to us, not if we're careful, and we have been very careful so far. We'll just have to be extra cautious from now on, make sure that no one gets to us.” 

"Jesus,” Paul said. “This is terrible, Reesh, fucking terrible.”

"I know, darling, I know, but there's nothing we can do about it, now,” Richard pointed out, jaw tightening as his thoughts turned to the mysterious stranger they'd seen in the cemetery a few nights previously. “Except … “

“Except what?” Paul asked, drawing far enough away so that he could stare into Richard's face. 

“That guy we saw in the cemetery,” Richard said. “We need to find him, and we need to kill him.” 

Paul said nothing, merely nodded.

****

The following few nights were spent in trying to track down the stranger, yet neither vampire could find the other vampiric intruder anywhere. Two more bodies had been found by the end of the week, and the stranger had been dubbed by the news as the Hungry Ghost, because of the muder victim's vampiric tendencies, and for the fact that the killer was as elusive as the proverbial ghost. No one had ever seen him, or knew what he looked like, or could find any trace of him at all. The killer, by all intents and purposes had worn gloves whilst killing, leaving no trace of his identity behind . 

By Saturday, Till had called a group meeting, grim-faced members settled in various degrees of composure around his living area. Richard and Paul stood by the fireplace, tense and nervous, whilst the rest of the band were ranged around the room. Only Till and Schneider were sitting; Olli leant against the doorframe, whilst Flake silently paced the end of the room. None of them said anything at first, until Till moved, blowing out great exhalations, and running one large hand through his hair, dislodging the strands so that they stuck awkwardly from his scalp. 

“I guess you've heard about those killings, by now?” he asked, and he pointedly did not look at Richard and Paul. 

“I presume you're really talking to us, right?” Paul asked, with a snort, as he gestured to first Richard and then himself. 

“It was actually a general question, Paul, but if you feel like adding anything to the situation, then go ahead and do it,” Till said, and his gaze, when he lifted it from the coffee table, was piercing and almost suspicious.

“It wasn't us, if that's what you're thinking,” Richard said. “We haven't killed anyone in over half a year, and it was only the one time, anyway.” 

“How do we know this?” Flake asked, voice as tense as his pacing which never ceased. 

“They were with me and Ulli the night of the first reported case,” Schneider said, as he looked up from where he'd been staring uncomfortaby at his shoes. “It certainly wasn't them, then. I'm doubting the other cases can be attrbuted to them, either." 

“At your place? Were they?” Till asked, as he cast a sharp glance upon Schneider suddenly.

“Yeah. Fucking ask Ulli if you don't believe me. She'll back me up. She'll back all three of us up,” Schneider said, as he started to scowl at Till. “In fact, ring her up now.” 

“Chris,” Olli said, softly from behind Schneider. “I believe you.” 

“Well, fucking hoorah. At least, someone does,” Schneider said, without taking his gaze from Till. “Like I said, ring my wife.” 

“I don't think there's any need for that,” Till replied, as he cast a glance towards Richard and Paul again. "Alright, then. Working under the assumption that it isn’t you two, then who was it?”

“There's no assumptions to make, Till. It wasn't us, plain and simple,” Paul stated quietly, and there was genuine anger in his face, his voice at that. 

“Okay. Fine. Who was it?” Till repeated, but it sounded as though he still didn't quite believe that Richard and Paul were involved. 

"That's what Paul and I are trying to find out,” Richard said, speaking a little more calmly than Paul had done, although not by much. 

He then told the others of the figure they’d seen a few nights previously, before the killings had started. Whilst Schneider and Olli were suitably agog, Till and Flake remained a little sceptical still. 

“Fine, say this guy, girl, whoever, actually exists, then what are you trying to do about it? Not a lot, by all accounts,” Till snorted. 

“This guy is particularly elusive. We don't know where he lives, for a start,” Paul said. “That would kind of help. We can never predict where he's gonna be or when he's gonna strike. All that I do know, is that as soon as we catch him, we're gonna kill him.” 

“Really?” Flake asked, suddenly looking particularly interested and intrigued by this. “How? Stake? Holy Water? Force-fed garlic?” 

“Force-fed garlic? That's a new one,” Olli said, with a laugh. 

“We haven't actually decided that, yet,” Paul said, and cast an uncomfortable gaze at Richard. “Have we, lover?” 

Richard’s only response was to grunt at that and look a little embarrassed.

“I can help you with that, if you want,” Flake said, coming forward to grin excitedly at the vampires. “I've always wanted to kill a vampire.” 

"Flake,” Richard said, in horror, as he reared away from the grinning keyboardist. 

“I didn't mean either of you, you knob-head!” Flake said, with genuine disgust in his tone. 

“Hey! Who are you calling knob-head?” Richard asked, in growing alarm. 

“Enough,” Till yelled from the sofa. “Flake, sit down. Tell us all about this damned vampire-killing idea of yours.” 

Flake duly did so, grinning still, before he began to talk.

****


	8. Chapter 8

That night, Richard and Paul trailed through the Tiergarten, the rest of the band still hanging around nearby. Each one of them was armed to the teeth with water-pistols filled with holy water stolen from a church, and garlic cloves shoved deeply into various coat pockets. Richard and Paul were the only ones without the garlic and Holy Water, vampiric hands unable to hold them for too long without a reaction, unearthly shrieks splitting from their mouths when the water and garlic brushed against bare skin. They were, however, able to hold stakes without trouble, although Richard sneered over them, unable to quite stomach the idea of what the stakes were going to be used for. 

They hung around in the park, until all but the vampires were yawning and tired; the unknown vampire seemed adamant upon not making an appearance whilst they lingered there. Eventually, they had to give up the search as a bad idea gone sour, and return to their respective homes for the night once more.

****

Paul lifted the receiver of the phone the following evening, alarmed from his spot on the sofa by the insistent ringing.

“Hallo?” he asked, in surprise. 

“Paulchen? It’s Olli,” Olli's familiar voice said.

“Hallo, Olli, what's the matter?” Paul asked.

That there was something wrong, or at least a little bit off, was obvious, judging by the tension, and near excitement, in the bassist’s voice. 

"There's been another murder,” Olli said. “And we have proof it wasn't either of you two, because you were with us when it happened. We could all see you."

“We fucking told you that it wasn’t us,” Paul said, triumphantly. 

“I know,” Olli said. “I wasn't exactly doubting you; that was all Till. I still am sorry about the accusations, though.” 

“That's okay, I guess,” Paul grunted, even as he wondered if they ever would entirely rid themselves of vampiric stigma from their band-mates.

No matter how easy the rest of the band were with them these days, there always would be a seed of doubt ready to take root and to germinate, and to explode into something that wasn't true. 

"D'you think we ever will find this Hungry Ghost?" Olli asked, a slight yawn whuffling against his end of the line. 

"Hopefully. Wh knows? Only time will tell us that, but we'll have a bloody good stab at it, in the meantime," Paul replied, darkly.

"A good stab? I think thee's a pun in that, somewhere, Paulchen," Olli said, sudden amusement warming his tone and Paul could just imagine the slight grin that was undoubtedly wrking its way over Olli's face. 

"Ha-de-fucking-ha," Paul said, even as he laughed himself. "Just as we're not on the end of a good stab, then all is fine. And by we, I mean me and Richard." 

"I realise, and I sincerely doubt that," Olli said, confidently, and Paul was grateful for that gentle confidence. 

They chatted for a while after that, but as it turned out, neither one of them had anything much else to say. Paul hung up just as Richard was coming out of the bathroom, fresh from relieving himself. 

“Who was that?” he asked, curiously. 

Paul filled Richard in partially on all that Olli had told him, but he didn't get to explain very much, for the phone rang again. That time, it was Till, telling Paul the same information that Olli had. Paul was glad to note that at least the vocalist was properly contrite, and genuinely apologetic for doubting them. That time, Richard heard both sides of the conversation and when the receiver thudded back down into its cradle once more, he snorted. 

“Now they believe us,” he said, with a long-suffering sigh. 

“Better late than never,” Paul pointed out, with a dry, almost sarcastic snort. “Even though I am sore about it.” 

Richard snorted, himself and closed the distance between them, to slide his arms around Paul's waist. Paul smiled up at him, and rested one hand upon Richard’s cheek. He leant in and nuzzled Richard's nose gently, even as Richard spoke.

“I don't know what I'd do without you, Paul,” he murmured. “This week has been hard.” 

“I know, my love,” Paul agreed, as he nuzzled his nose comfortingly against Richard's. “At least we have each other. We always will.” 

“Hmm,” Richard said, as he kissed Paul's lips gently. “I want to eat.” 

Paul's eyes closed as he felt the first nibble of Richard's fangs against his throat.

“Are you planning on eating me, or do you want to get a take-away?” he murmured, as Richard’s fangs sank a little deeper into his throat.

He felt the snag and pull of his lover’s fangs easing from his flesh and he sighed at the feel of the sharp pain thrilling through his body. He stared up at Richard and smiled as the other vampire licked his blood free from his lips.

“Take-away,” Richard agreed, with a nod. “You are nothing but a little nibble and a snack, albeit a very cute little snack.” 

“Cute,I agree with, but snack, I don't. Snack, indeed,” Paul laughed.

****

Paul followed Richard through the streets of Berlin, silent feet carrying them across Alexanderplatz; they could see the glowing spike of the Fernsehturm on the horizon, comforting in its implacable, unchangeable stability. Paul felt a certain sense of satisfaction at strolling through the streets of his home, familiar and exciting all at once. He could hear the sounds of life thrumming through Berlin more acutely now, see everything and smell everything more keenly, so that everything around him seemed to come at him in a great tumultuous rush. He shivered with pleasure, and caught Richard’s smile, as though the other vampire guessed at his train of thought and shared it. 

The night was humid again, the air sticky and close against their skin, as they made their way to the Tiergarten and the familiar shushing, swishing sounds of the trees moving with the breezes that were too slight to make the humidity fade away. Paul darted between the trees, swift light body blending easily with the shadows; he could smell Richard nearby, familiar and musky and carrying everything that he loved most and held dear. 

He scented blood at the same time as Richard did, thrumming with life and vitality; one solitary human strolled nearby, leading a dog on a lead on a late night stroll. He looked to Richard and hung back, gesturing for his lover to take first feed. Richard also hung back and matching fanged grins flashed in the darkness, as Richard gestured for Paul to take the bite in turn. Paul surged forward, hunger overriding his inbred sense of politeness, and his mouth closed against gushing vein and flowing blood, whilst the dog barked and tugged wildly at its lead. 

Paul eased away, filled and sated and plunged deper into the Tiergarten in the hopes of finding a victim for Richard to feed from. In time they found one that took Richard's hungry fancy, and he began to feed; Paul alternated between watching Richard eat, and watching for potential onlookers accidently stumbling upon them.

****


	9. Chapter 9

Richard's mouth closed over the woman’s throat, and his eyes shuttered closed in pleasure at the first rush of blood coursing over his tongue. He fed and fed and fed, savouring each gush, each swallowed mouthful, each warm trickle, until he was sated. He eased away and turned, expecting to find Paul in the shadowed darkness nearby. Fear and alarm coursed through Richard's veins in a cold blast when he realised that he no longer could see his lover anywhere. 

He turned, blood freezing still further in his veins, as his mind raced over the past few moments back to when they'd last been together. He found that he couldn't remember much beyond the rush of feeding and the taste of blood and the sensations of a warm, life-filled body pressed against his own, life fading from her veins even as he sucked it from her throat. He cursed, and it was as if that one noise prompted him into action; he turned again and screamed for Paul, yet Paul didn't answer. Paul was no longer there to hear, let alone answer.

Richard cursed again, fear making his voice turn tight and cold and incredibly small; pain drifted through him, with loss on its heels and he felt confusion for a moment, placed there by the absence of Paul. He screamed for Paul again, and padded away from his now forgotten victim, hoping to find evidence of where Paul had disappeared to, yet he could find nothing, and no trace of his errant lover. Pain blossomed still further in his chest, weighted down by empty loneliness, and all he could think of, suddenly, was the Hungry Ghost, that he'd taken Paul from him. Anger soon burned its heated way through his veins, hands soon balling into fists at his sides, chest heaving beneath the weight of his growing fury and anxiety. 

He lifted his nose and inhaled sharply, once, twice, thrice, hoping that he would be able to scent his lover on the breezes. He closed his eyes and cursed again, and moved still further away from the spot where he'd been, then he caught that distinctive scent of Paul, finally, that woodsy, musky scent that always smelt clean and homely to Richard. He grinned suddenly, expression there and gone in but an instant, before he began moving across the Tiergarten, zig-zagging through trees, past several statues that had stood watchful and silent for years. Richard followed his nose, and that much-loved scent of his partner, to the edge of a lake that glitestered silently beneath the trees of the Tiergarten, and saw that a stooped figure stood upon the banks of the lake, holding Paul beneath the surface of the water. Paul was struggling, hands flailing and occasionally grappling a hold of his assailant; although Richard knew that there was no real threat of Paul being drowned, he still could be tortured and made to suffer.

Richard gave a howl of rage at the sight of his lover being thus treated and he surged forward until he'd reached the lake and the unknown vampire that was torturing his lover; Richard's hands grappled and gripped the back of the vampire's head between both hands. He heaved backwards, pulling the stranger with him, and, as a consequence, Paul, too, from beneath the surface of the lake. They fell in a bundled heap upon the bank, both Paul and Richard gripping and grasping at Paul's assailant now. Richard was swearing and cursing the being that had threatened to take his love from him, voice tight with his rage as he tried to gouge out the unknown vampire's eyes; the vampire made not a sound, yet his hands did his talking for him, trying to gain a hold upon the vampires that attacked him in turn,

"You tried to take my lover from me, you fucking bastard," Richard yelled again, again, again and he pulled at the vampire, dragged him this way and that in an attempt to rip his head from his body. 

He didn't even realise that Paul had left his side, until the other vampire had returned, with a sharp edged branch hefted between strong hands. Paul bore down upon the still silent vampire's chest with the pointier end of the branch and the wood pierced the chest; Paul pushed down until he'd all but pinned the vampire to the ground beneath him. There was a brief pause when all the world seemed to take a breath and then the vampire exploded into dust, particles of obliterated flesh drifting around Richard and Paul both, some of which settled against skin and clothing alike.

"That is fucking disgusting, just so you know," Richard said as he stared down at his own clothing in disgusted distaste. "I've got dead vampire on me, Paul."

"Well, at least he's gone, now," Paul replied, and his voice was a little hoarse from where the vampire had strangled him and bruised his throat. 

Richard looked up at that in alarm, before he rested one hand against Paul's neck where a ring of bruises had already started to blossom against his skin.

"I'm fine, Reesh," Paul smiled, before Richard could say a word. "Seriously. Thank you. I knew that you'd come for me."

Richard nodded, before he leant in and pressed a punishing kiss against Paul's mouth, hard enough to feel the sharp jut of fangs against flesh. 

"Who the fuck was that? Not the Hungry Ghost, surely," Richard murmured, against his lover's lips, when the kiss had barely ended.

Paul merely smiled, at first, and silently rested his forehead against Richard's. Then he sighed, and replied to Richard's question.

"I think it's safe to say it was," he murmured. "And no, I don't know who he was, before you ask, no more than you do; I didn't recognise his scent, or his face, at any rate."

"We've only met one other vampire, Paul; might I remind you that that was the one who turned me and he was killed long ago," Richard reminded him, remembering the time they'd spent in Austria with an English producer. "Assuming he really is dead." 

"Why should he not be? Bob was angry enough at us after shooting his brother to indicate he was telling the truth about it. The Hungry Ghost had a different scent, at any rate," Paul replied, with a careless shrug. "I dare say there's hundreds of vampires in Germany alone and I don't want to know a single one of them, other than you."

"Huh, yeah, me neither. So. Random intruding vampire, then, huh?" Richard asked, before he leant in to press a kiss against the corner of Paul's mouth.

"Hmm," Paul murmured against Richard's mouth. "Random, dead vampire, too." 

"Hmm," Richard echoed, before falling silent once more.

****

Richard and Paul fumbled their way through the front door of their apartment, hands and mouths grappling for dominance against each other's bodies. Richard eased away to allow his lover to push the door closed behind them, and to lock it, before he crowded in again, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he stole kiss after kiss from the other vampire's mouth.

Paul led the way into the spare bedroom, laughing at the insistent weight of Richard's hands upon his body, fingers stealing caresses and outright gropes every chance that the other vampire could get. They struggled out of their clothes, each item quickly shed and hitting the floor with hefty thumps against the carpet; Paul's clothing was still wet from his impromptu dunking in the lake, yet neither vampire took any notice of them. Instead, they bundled naked upon the bed, skin rubbing insistently against skin as mouths locked and hands groped and caressed once more; in time, Paul moved to retrieve the lube from the bathroom. He returned to find that Richard was already waiting for him, legs raised so that Richard's knees reached his shoulders, hands gripping his ankles lightly.

Paul crawled between Richard's legs, and licked his lips, as he squeezed lube onto his fingers. He pressed a chuffing kiss against one of Richard's knees before he began to prepare the other vampire, fingers dipping and caressing and stretching his lover until Richard was a pleading mess of nerves and arousal before him. Paul laughed and rolled on a condom, before he laid atop his lover and guided himself inside Richard with a loud, and drawn out groan. He began to move, slowly at first and then faster, hips hitting against hips, hands clutching at Richard's sides to steady him as Paul thrust harder, deeper, faster inside his lover. He came with a cry of relief and barely sated lust, as Richard's hand stroked at himself as he stared up into Paul's face. Richard came with a shout of Paul's name, back arching from the bed, before he settled once more against the messy sheets, Paul now laying beside him. They lay in silence for a while, until Richard sighed and spoke.

"I thought I'd lost you tonight," he murmured, voice low, yet even that quiet pitch did little to hide his anguish and remembered painful loneliness.

Paul sighed and bent his head to press a kiss against Richard's shoulder.

"But you didn't," he said, not unkindly. "You came for me. I knew you would." 

Richard grunted and continued to stare up at the ceiling; he tried not to think of what life would be like without Paul by his side. 

"What? What are you thinking about?" Paul asked, quietly, as he stroked patterns against Richard's sticky abdomen with his fingertips. 

"Of how I couldn't live if you weren't there with me," Richard admitted, after a brief pause. "I'd rather die for good, than exist without you."

"Oh, Richard," Paul said, and the sadness in Paul's voice made Richard turn his head to stare at him in surprise. "Please don't talk like that. I'm still here."

"Only just," Richard pointed out. "That little fuck-head tried to kill you."

"But he couldn't. At least not by drowning, at any rate," Paul pointed out. "I'm just lucky I don't actually need to breathe." 

"What did he think that he was doing, anyway? Surely he should have known that he couldn't have drowned you," Richard pointed out, as he reached out to smooth Paul's sex mussed hair into something like its normal style again. 

"I think he was meaning to frighten me, or torture me, or something," Paul replied, with a tiny shrug that barely lifted his shoulders. 

"Didn't he say?" Richard asked, with a frown of confusion at Paul's words. "He must have threatened you, surely."

"That was just it; he didn't. He didn't say a word, actually," Paul replied, as a disrbed frown worked its way across his face and turned his eyes a darker shade of blue. "I don't thnk he could."

"What d' you mean? Was he mute?" Richard asked, in surprise.

"He seemed to be," Paul said, with a nod. 

"Fucking wierd," Richard said, with a grimace. "I wonder what he wanted with you?"

"The same thing we wanted with him, I should imagine," Paul replied. "I think he was trying to kill me, and I don't doubt he would have tried killing you, as well. He probably wanted the entirety of Berlin for himself. You should know how territorial vampires are."

"Berlin's our territory," Richard said, as he sat up angrily, proving Paul's point regarding territorial vampires.

"Or at least the Tiergarten is, for now," Paul pointed out with a gentle laugh, as he reached out to tug gently at Richard's elbow. "Come on. It's over, anyway. He's dead and gone for good. Come and lay down again, Reesh, please." 

Richard remained stiff beneath Paul's hand, and Paul sighed, fingers squeezing and massaging his lover until he felt Richard soften beneath his palm once more.

"Come and snuggle with me, lover," Paul pleaded, as he trailed his fingers down Richard's arm, to stroke them against his partner's. "Please, Reesh. It's over. I'm still here, and you still have me. You can have me in a different sense, again, if you want."

He grinned at Richard when the other vampire turned a surprised look upon him, before the other vampire laughed. He didn't hesitate to settle beside Paul again, to steal kiss after kiss after kiss, even as they made love long into the night; Paul felt as though he'd been claimed for Richard's own, a claim he was only too willing to submit to.

****


	10. Epilogue

The days went by and nothing else happened; it seemed as though life had all but returned to normal again. The media still focussed upon the still unknown identity of the Hungry Ghost, endless newsreels and newspaper articles all gleefully vying for the same, increasingly waning attentions of the public. Their attentions were blissfully kept away from Richard and to Paul, who continued walking on proverbial egg-shells around Berlin, too mindful of drawing unwanted attention to themselves, whilst the media still was moderately vampire-crazed. In time, though, when the murders no longer occured and the identity of the Hungry Ghost was resigned to the heap of great unknown mysteries, even the sleaziest of tabloids lost interest, and Richard and Paul began to relax again, and to move a little more freely on their chosen hunting ground.

When asked by Flake as to what had actually happened to the Hungry Ghost, Paul took great delight in recounting how Richard had come to his rescue at the lake, hollering and screaming and acting like a jealous lover.

"He is a jealous lover," Flake said, dryly, after he'd finished listening to the tale.

"And I'm the lucky fucker who gets to go home to it, every night," Paul said, with a grin, before he opened his mouth as though to embellish still further. 

"Please keep that kind of thing to yourself, Paul," Flake said, as he shuddered and turned away. "I don't need to know any details." 

The only thing that Paul could do was tilt his head back and laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it for this story; as always, thank you for reading. All comments and kudos are very much appreciated, welcomed and encouraged! I'm not entirely sure that I'm overly happy with how this story turned out, but I'm hoping that you enjoyed it, anyway? 
> 
> More will be coming soon in this series. :o)


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